Blind Song
by XxAmi.IzunexX
Summary: Celeste Voltaire is a suspect of a crime; however, was it really her that committed it? Released from custody on certain terms of bribery, she is relieved that L, the detective working on her case, sends her to Whammy's House when she expresses extreme musical talent - as she is now orphaned. Can Celeste find friendship and home at Whammy's? How will she affect the Kira case?
1. Grandfather Clocks and Debts

**Grandfather Clocks and Debts**

The grandfather clock of Wammy's House chimed twelve times, indicating mid night, and woke a young adolescent from his sleep.

All was quiet in the boy's simple room. Mello was curled up on his side amongst the bed sheets, snug in his bed, thinking about whether or not he should get up since he was now awake. To his right sat his night table and alarm clock. At the foot of his bed was his dresser, and opposite of his dresser was his book case and desk. The room's ground was littered with articles of clothing and chocolate wrappers, as well as other junk.

Mello decisively slipped out of his bed covers thinking 'might as well' and padded towards his clothing drawer, sifting through the contents until he found his winter coat. Shrugging into the warm jacket, he fumbled with his boots' buckles before quietly opening his bedroom window and removing the outer mesh coverings, carefully placing them on his bedside table. Mello shoved one of his legs out the window so that one leg was hanging far above the ground outside and the other was just touching the ground of his room. Mello leaned slightly back and gingerly maneuvered his other leg outside before sitting upright on the window frame, ducking somewhat to keep his head from bumping on the top of the window.

The teenager closed his eyes and sighed, taking in shallow breaths and enjoying the feeling of cold winter air traveling up his nose and clearing his mind from the haziness of sleep. Mello blearily glanced around at the winter night scenery, and used one pale hand to rub his eyes. He'd been getting up for late mid night walks ever since Watari had left to find some more Wammy House recruits and this new found habit wasn't helping him at all concentration wise. For some reason, at the same time each and every night, the grandfather clock would wake Mello and he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep unless he took a stroll around the Whammy House estate or at the very least, a breather outside. He was just glad that no one knew of these small trips but him; if Roger heard of him taking walks at mid night there would surely be some very serious consequences.

Suspicious chocolate shortage directed solely at the chocoholic of a Mello would most definitely be one of the aforementioned consequences.

Bracing his hands against the frame of the window, Mello used his feet to push off the wall and free fall through the air. Luckily, Mello's room was only on the second floor, so when he landed, he tucked and rolled on the soft snow that covered the ground and was good to go. Mello absentmindedly brushed the imprints he'd left in the snow to get rid of his tracks, and set off at a brisk pace towards the front gate of Whammy's House, every once in a while repeating the procedure of erasing his steps.

Guards were always stationed beside the gate, two at a time, no matter what time it was to stop intruders from entering and exiting the institute, but this posed little problem to a genius like Mello. Ducking behind a wall, he used his now pink with cold hands to scoop up some snow and form a snowball. Content with his handiwork, Mello drew back an arm and threw a curve ball with the snow so that it hit the farthest guard right in the face. Mello snickered when the two guards stomped off to check the other side of the building for intruders.

Mello stuffed his now freezing hands deep into his coat pockets after drawing up the coat collar as far as it would go and putting on his hood. When he reached the gate, Mello reluctantly took his hands out of his pockets again. Shuffling backwards a few steps, Mello took the low wall beside the gate at a run and when he got close enough, jumped and used his hands to vault over, landing in a crouch on the other side. Picking some snow off the sidewalk, he quickly threw handfuls of the fluffy stuff over the wall to make it look like no one had ever been at nor over the gate. Mello hastily stuffed his hands back into his pockets, clenching them into fists in attempts to warm them up from being exposed to the cold for so long.

The night was illuminated clearly by the streams of moonlight from above and the twinkling of stars. Mello let out a breath of content. Never before had he felt so completely relaxed, besides his other night time strolls. He was aware of his typical anger, the anger that would follow him _everywhere_; but the peacefulness of the night just seemed to sweep all his harsh emotions away, leaving nothing but calmness in its wake. Mello was grateful.

After wandering around the nearby streets and haunting some of the alleyways, Mello began to head back to the Wammy's House, sure that he would be able to fall asleep after this little outing. Mello took a short cut back and ducked into a small space between two shops and began to shuffle to the end of the tiny alley. The space between the two shops was so tight that Mello had to walk sideways, and even then, the two walls would press claustrophobically against his chest and back. When he reached the very back of the tiny lane he shimmied downwards to lie as small as he could on his belly, his shoulders pushing uncomfortably against the tight walls. Army crawling forwards, he squeezed himself through a tiny hole underneath the wall until he felt his head pop up into the opening on the other side of the wall. Pushing more, he shoulders popped up next, then his torso, and the rest of his body followed. He grinned, proud. He had found out this short cut back when he was ten at Christmas. He had told Matt, another Wammy kid and one of Mello's only friends at the orphanage, about the passage. Matt had been very impressed since the walls surrounding Wammy's were all very, very tall or domed inwards so you couldn't possibly get over them. The only ways out of the Wammy's House was through the front gates (or, in Mello's case, the walls directly beside the gate that were neither domed nor tall), or through this little niche under the right wall that Roger had never found out about.

Dusting snow off of himself, Mello kept low to the ground, making sure every now and then to erase his foot prints, and crept off to the left side of the building where his open window would be waiting. He got to his destination without much trouble. After scooping snow up and placing it in his pockets, Mello got a running start and scrambled up the wall to his window, his fingers grabbing hold of the ledge. Mello eased himself back up into his room. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to fall back down again, Mello flipped himself around so that he sat facing away from his room and sitting on his window frame again. Taking the snow that he had scooped up before hand, he lopped chunks of the fluffy stuff at the ground, effectively covering up his tracks.

Mello was satisfied. He swung himself around and landed deftly on the gentle carpet of his room. Replacing the mesh that had protected his window, he quietly shut the two glass window panes and shifted the blinds shut. Leaving his boots beside the heater and jacket strung above it with the help of the foot of his bed and a handy chair, Mello curled up into bed once more.

Sleep was creeping up onto Mello, but just before it had him in its blissful clutches, the grandfather clock of Wammy's House chimed once, indicating one o' clock in the morning, and startled him back into full alertness. Mello cursed the stupid clock.

After snuggling back into his pillows and calming himself down, Mello lay stock still when he heard from below the click of the main entrance to the Wammy's House unlocking and the shuffle of two pairs of boots hurriedly entering and shutting the door again. Ignoring things had never been Mello's strong point, so he groaned and pulled off his covers once more, getting ready to investigate.

* * *

"Quickly and quietly please Miss Aubrey," the kind man gently guided her into the mansion, "it will be warm inside, a fire has been lit for my homecoming, but the children are sleeping, so please be as quiet as you can."

The young lady nodded obediently and carefully stepped over the threshold, allowing the man to steer her inside. She was hit by a wave of welcome warmth. The youth sighed in content and basked in the coziness.

"We are in the front foyer right now. Can you take off your shoes by yourself? Yes there…" the man took her hands and placed them near her boots' laces, where she undid the limp strings. When she was finished, the man slid the boots off of her feet and held them in one hand to his side. "I will lead you to your temporary room now, a maid will come fetch you in the morn-"

The teenager visibly panicked. The man frowned concernedly. "Is something the matter?"

"I… I want…"

The man patted the young lady's shoulder reassuringly. "Yes?"

Even quieter than before, the female whispered, "Ze piano. I want ze piano before bed."

The man was surprised. This young woman had traveled all the way from France and here she was, requesting for a piano instead of a warm bed to rest in. However, the man was not keen to wave off the lady's request; it must have been important to the quiet French for her to have brought it up. "Very well, right this way please, Miss Aubrey."

* * *

Mello inched his bedroom door open silently and walked into the empty corridor. When he was out, he stuffed a wad of tissue paper into the door's catch before inching the door shut again so that it wouldn't lock. He set off cautiously towards the whispering voices. He did not want to alert the people at the foyer of his present in case they were unwanted intruders.

When Mello got to the main stair case that led to the front foyer, he quickly ducked down behind one of the large marble pillars, pressing his slim frame against the cold stone. He snuck a peek at the couple silhouetted against the moonlight outside.

Mello couldn't believe it! Watari was back – and with the new recruit, no less. Judging by the shape of the recruit's build against the stark whiteness of the snow outside, the person was most likely a slight girl, or else a very, very thin boy. He frowned, concentrating, trying to remember more details on the girl's appearance from his quick peek. Mello didn't dare risk another glance behind the pillar, lest Watari spotted him and set Roger upon him.

The girl was about Mello's height, Mello guessed. She was fairly skinny, and had long, dark hair that was… was it curly? Mello couldn't be sure, but a tiny fact like that wasn't much of a problem. The girl had been wearing a fairly bulky jacket, definitely fur trim by the way it rippled when the girl moved. That must mean that either Watari had brought a closet full of clothes for the new recruit to choose from, or the girl was relatively well off. Mello felt that the former was much more likely, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the latter was actually the truth.

"Very well, right this way please, Miss Aubrey," Mello heard Watari say. Hmmm… Aubrey, eh? Mello wondered whether or not Watari and this Aubrey had already decided on a nick name for the girl; if not, then Aubrey would be her real name. Mello smirked.

First grade black mail material, _right there_. If this girl was planning to be a detective, which she probably was, if she was in the Wammy's House, and Mello needed something from her in the near future, well, a trade between knowledge of her real name and whatever Mello wanted would certainly be fair, wouldn't it? Now, if only Watari would say her last name…

Mello snuck another look around the pillar, only managing to pull back just in time to see Watari and the girl climbing the stairs and getting closer and closer towards him. _Shit!_

As a kid genius, Mello knew he wouldn't be able to slink away from behind his pillar without being heard by Watari or the new girl. Mello decided that he would just have to wait it out and hope both of them don't notice him; after all, there was a high chance they won't even see him because of how dark the house is.

Mello just hoped that Watari wouldn't bother with turning on the light switch…

The adolescent's wish was granted as Watari by passed the switch controlling all the hallways in the Wammy's House's lighting. Mello stifled his sigh of relief.

Mello looked up again at Watari and the Aubrey girl when they walked pass him. He was surprised to see Watari holding the girl's hand and guiding her forwards with his other hand on her shoulder. Mello had never thought Watari to be the affectionate type, nor did he ever think that Watari was a pedophile. However, for just a moment, rays of moonlight from the window in the corridor illuminated the Aubrey girl's face and Mello understood why Watari was guiding the girl.

Aubrey was blindfolded.

Mello didn't know why she had a cloth over her eyes, and Mello didn't know why Watari bothered keeping the blindfold on the Aubrey girl. There wasn't anything particularly exciting to show someone as a surprise in the Wammy's House at one o' clock in the morning. Mello racked his brain for a reason as to why the girl was blindfolded, but the only explanations his sleep deprived brain could come up with was that she was blind, or Watari was about to show her some secret about Wammy's House that was worth being blindfolded for. Neither option seemed very possible.

Stuck between following the two down the corridor and finding out where Watari was taking the girl or going back to bed to try and gain the lost hours of sleep, Mello pondered.

The answer to Mello's decision was obvious. As a certified on-its-death-bed cat, Mello allowed curiosity to get the better of him, and keeping to the shadows, followed the pair.

* * *

Aubrey, better known as Celeste Voltaire, her real name, silently walked through the Wammy's House's hallways. Her socked feet felt comfortable against the plush carpets and the cold marble of the house.

Celeste guessed that the man that was leading her was at least sixty years old: His hands were worn and elderly, though with a strong grip. He smelled like a grandfather too. When she had sat in the car with the man, he had been talking to the driver and they spoke of the Wammy's House as a very big, old estate. The young lady supposed that the Wammy's House was a mansion. She wasn't surprised; after all, not many houses had such big foyers or such grand staircases.

Celeste's eye brows creased downwards. She couldn't pronounce the man's name properly, even in her own mind, so she didn't bother calling him by it, but not being able to do so annoyed her. Japanese names were ever so strange. Celeste tried to say the man's name in her head again. Wah-tair-ree. Wahtairee. She thought she might've gotten it right, but she couldn't be sure… Celeste supposed it would be alright to call the man by 'Wahtairee'.

"We have arrived. This is the music room, Miss Aubrey," Wahtairee said. "If I may ask, what do you plan on doing, exactly?"

"Je veux- I- I weesh to play ze piano, Monsieur." Celeste cursed herself fluently in French under her breath for lapsing back into her mother tongue.

Wahtairee gave Celeste a gentle pat on the back and led her to the center of the music room where a grand piano stood. "Play to your heart's content. Just please make sure to play softly so as not to wake the other children." Celeste felt a small and smooth object fall into her palm. She fiddled with it and found something flat protrude from the rest of the item. "When you have finished and wish to go to bed, merely press this button and I'll come get you, okay?"

Celeste smiled. "Merc- Thank you."

Wahtairee patted Celeste once more before she felt him move away. She heard the soft muffling sound of the door to the room closing, and then the retreating of his steps.

* * *

Mello ducked behind a wall just in time to see Watari step out of the music room and close the door. He stayed motionless, praying to whatever gods were out there that Watari wouldn't notice him as said man walked away and towards the east wing of the Wammy's House. For the second time in the night, his luck won out and Watari strode briskly away without any knowledge at all that Mello was hiding in the shadows, out of bed.

Mello was at a stale mate. He didn't know what to do. If he stayed, Watari was bound to come back to fetch this Aubrey. If he confronted the girl, there was a very big chance that she'll just call for Watari. If he went back to bed, he won't get any sleep at all because the curiosity within him would keep him awake.

Option A sounded very bad, as Mello didn't want to be punished by Roger or Watari and he obviously would be if caught out of bed. Option B sounded very bad too, because Roger will eventually find out and Watari will have told him. Option C sounded the worst, because Mello hated not being able to do anything and just lying in wait.

Mello supposed he would just have to risk Option B and hope that the girl won't tattle.

Striding purposefully, Mello attempted an air of 'I-am-totally-allowed-to-be-here' and nonchalance before throwing open the door to the music room. He sauntered inside, hoping against hope that his luck would stay strong for his one last endeavor.

* * *

Celeste gently slid open the grand piano's cover and opened its back, revealing all of chords and brass hammers. She fingered the smooth keys and sighed wistfully.

How she longed to see the black and white sheen of the piano again.

Plopping down into the piano's bench, Celeste extended her index finger, maneuvering the slim digit over the keys before pressing down on middle C. The full sound resonated throughout the room, echoing majestically. Celeste smiled.

Slam.

Jumping, the startled girl spun to face towards the sound, her left hand accidentally smashing onto the button that Wahtairee had given her. She heard the button emit a tiny 'beep'. "Who eez zere?"

Celeste heard confident foot falls walk towards her. A smooth, boyish voice answered, "Just me. Who are you? And what are you doing in the music room?"

The young lady frowned. What kind of answer was that? "Tell me what your name eez, and I shall tell you mine. Tell me what you are doing in zis room at zis time, and I shall tell you why I am 'ere."

Celeste heard the person shift. She was almost sure that the newcomer was a boy, judging by his voice and mannerisms. "…My name's Matt."

"You are lying," Celeste replied bluntly. The hesitation that had briefly flickered in the boy's voice was evident.

"No I'm not. My name is Matt Vaere."

"Zat eez a lie too. Monsieur Wahtairee 'as informed me of ze Wammy's House rules. Under no conditions do you tell another of your true name."

"Matt Vaere is my alias."

"None of ze alias's in ze Wammy's House 'ave last names."

"Well I do."

Celeste pursed her lips tightly together. She hated liars, and she wasn't about to cut this one some slack. "Why won't you stop lying? I already know zat zis 'Matt Vaere' alias eez not true. Eez giving me your real alias truly zat hard?" She shook her head and muttered something along the lines of 'idiot' in French before turning away from the boy to face the piano. If all the people in Wammy's House were like this, Celeste thought, she would have a rather hard time making friends. She bit the inside of her cheek, her insides suddenly queasy. She really wanted friends, and she supposed that in her position as the newbie, she couldn't be choosy. This boy could very well end up being the only person that would talk to her at this orphanage. Her animosity towards him for being a liar evaporated and Celeste made conscious effort to try and be nicer. "Zis is not zat big a problem. I guess you will not tell me why you are 'ere either, so I just won't tell you my alias eizer zen, or my reason for sitting 'ere. I will be playing the piano now."

Celeste paused for a moment. She thought that what she said before was relatively nice, but she was now struggling to find a polite way to say 'shut up'. She settled for, "Do be quiet, please."

* * *

Mello fumed silently, clenching and unclenching his fists. It was trying enough not to march up to this Aubrey girl and rip that stupid blindfold off her face but to have her disregard him too because of an instrument _and _command him around? If Mello wasn't so keen to be lectured by Roger at one o' clock in the morning, he swore he would have given the girl a right beating.

And how did she expect to play the piano with a blindfold on? Unless she was some musical protégée, which wouldn't be too surprising if it were the truth, considering that Wammy's House _was _an orphanage for gifted children, how was she going to know which keys to press to play the right melody?

Realization dawned on Mello. Aubrey had said that Watari had already told her of the Wammy's House customs. That meant 'Aubrey' must not be the girl's true name either then.

So much for Mello's future black mailing scheme. _Augh. _Mello hated being wrong and being proved wrong by a stranger did _not _bode well for the said stranger's near future. Mello contemplated whether or not to tackle the girl while she was unsuspecting as revenge for being so unco-operative or going back to his bedroom now that he'd found out where the girl had gone to.

The smarter thought process that Mello possessed spoke and told him that even if he did know where the girl had been led to by Watari, he still didn't know why she wore the blindfold, and that would certainly keep him up all night. Shit.

Forcing indifference into his voice, Mello cleared his throat and asked, "Why do you wear that blindfold?'

Aubrey paused in her fingering of the piano's keys. Mello could hear the quiet annoyance beneath her calmness. "I told you to be quiet while I played."

Mello scowled. "I'm not your damned lap dog. You aren't playing right now either, so answer the stupid question."

"If your question eez stupid, why should I answer?"

"Because I told you to."

Aubrey fully turned her body to face him. She mimicked Mello's voice and said, "I am not your damned lap dog."

Mello lunged forward, reaching for her blindfold. He didn't give a damn anymore about Roger's stupid lectures. So long as he scared her, and taught her a lesson, it would all be worth it. Nobody messed with Mello. He smirked when she gave a little gasp and scrambled to get away.

The two landed in a crumpled heap on the ground. Mello scratched at her face to rid it of the blindfold, and she wriggled to try and get away. Mello shot his right hand out to the blindfold's knot and Aubrey darted to the left, seemingly instinctively, but Mello had feinted and he grabbed hold of her blindfold with his left hand and yanked. Aubrey suddenly remembered that she could yell for help, but before she had sucked in so much as a breath Mello had covered her mouth, effectively muffling her scream.

Panting, Mello whispered to her, "Now be quiet and I'll let you have the blindfold back afterwards."

Mello peered into Aubrey's eyes curiously. They were a pretty green shade, and even though they looked a bit tired and dull in the moonlight, he could see himself reflecting in the pupil the way a normal eye would. He couldn't find anything wrong with them. He turned her face this way and that, but no matter what angle he put her in under the dim light Mello couldn't distinguish anything wrong with her eyes. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Aubrey didn't say anything, but she did bite down hard onto the palm of Mello's hand, making him snatch it away. When he had let go of her, Aubrey quickly scooted backwards, towards the piano again and spat, "Zat eez none of your concern. 'Ave you finished with your 'arrasment of me yet? Give me back my blindfold."

"No. Tell me what's wrong with your eyes."

Aubrey hissed. "No! Give me back my blindfold!"

"I'll tell you what my real alias is if you tell me what's wrong with your eyes."

The girl looked like she was about to throw a fit, before she visibly hesitated. She bit her lip. She even ran a hand through her hair. Finally, she said, "Do you swear eet? You will not lie again?"

This time Mello was the one that hesitated. Why did she want to know his name so badly? And if he made a promise to her, he'd have to keep it, because he never, ever went back on his promises. His smarter thought process showed him a restless night full of no sleep because of all these secrets and unanswered mysteries and he replied swiftly, "I swear. I won't lie again about my alias."

"Zen give me my blindfold back, and tell me your alias first."

Mello clenched his jaw. Of course she would do something like this. But he really wanted to know why she wore that stupid blindfold when her eyes looked perfectly okay… "Fine then." He threw the blindfold to her where it landed in a heap on the piano's bench. "My name's Mello. Now tell me."

"I am… I am-"

A knock sounded at the door and Mello swore under his breath, diving into a grand studio inside the music room that showcased stringed instruments. He curled up into as tiny a ball as he could behind the tinted glass. He had been so close to finding out the truth! And now, not only would he not know, but he'd also be found out and have his chocolate privileges taken away. _Shit!_

Watari's footsteps resonated against the marble floor. "Miss Aubrey? You pressed the button. Is there something you need, or have you had your fill of music? Would you like to retire to your bedroom?" A pause. "If I am not mistaken, I could have sworn to hear you conversing with another person… I also did not hear your playing. Do our instruments not please you? And why have you taken off your blindfold?"

Mello's breath hitched. She had pressed a button? What button? Damn that girl! He had told her his name too! She was going to reveal him, Mello, and Roger was going to lecture him in the most boring way possible, and he was going to get taken off of chocolate for hours, even days… Mello should have known better than to confront the girl and trust her… Even a sleepless night was better than Roger and his talks and no chocolate… Maybe tackling her wasn't the best choice he could have made; if he hadn't, she might not reveal him…

"Your eenstruments are very good. Zey are even brilliant. As for not hearing my playing, you weeshed for me to play softly no? I 'ave muffled ze piano for zat reason; I was also playing quieter zan usual. I took ze blindfold off because eet did not feel comfortable against my skeen and I do not want to feel uncomfortable while playing."

Mello blinked. He blinked again. What?

Watari chuckled softly. "Yes, I wished for you to play softly so as not to awake the children, but you needn't have muffled the piano. You just had to close the top."

"Monsieur Wahtairee, zere you are wrong. You see, eef you merely closed ze top, ze sound would steel resonate very loudly, but-"

Mello stopped listening. Why was Aubrey not screaming, 'Some maniac named Mello attacked me and eez 'iding in zat room!'? Was she trying to get his hopes up, and then at the last moment when he thought he was going to be able to get away, she would drop the bomb? Yes, Mello decided, that was what she was going to do. Mello steeled himself so that he would be prepared when Watari told him he wouldn't have anymore chocolate for the rest of the day and sent him to Roger's office for a lecture.

Mello heard Watari chuckle again. "Very well, very well Miss Aubrey. However that still does not explain the other voice I heard. Who was here?"

Mello heard a shuffle of clothing. The damned tattle tale of a girl was pretending to be nervous. Damn her.

"Monsieur Wahtairee, I 'ope you will not feel… that you will not feel zat I am crazy after I tell you zis, but… I talk to myself when I play ze piano. I reply to ze voices zat come from ze song. Only I 'ave ever been able to 'ear ze singing voices."

There was a ringing silence. What? Mello was more baffled than he'd ever been in his life, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. Distractedly, he thought that this feeling that he was experiencing; it must be what dumb people feel like twenty four seven. Wow. Thank god he was smart.

Watari finally spoke, albeit hesitantly. "Excuse me?"

"I knew eet. I should 'ave never told you. Please forget what I 'ave told you, Monsieur Wahtairee… I am not crazy! I am not!"

"Please calm down, Miss Aubrey… I do not think that you are insane in the least. Everybody is different. Just because you… talk to yourself, does not mean you are any better or worse than the rest of us. Now, now, please do not cry, Miss Aubrey… Here, have my handkerchief."

Mello heard some snuffling and then some more and a few whimpers. If he had thought that the baffled feeling before was bad, then this had to be ten times worse. What was Aubrey's ulterior motive? Why in the world was she _helping _Mello, claiming herself crazy to protect him, when he had practically tackled her and tried to force secrets out of her? It didn't make any sense _at all_.

"Mer-hic-ci, M-mons-hic-ieur Wa-ahtairee."

"You are very welcome, Miss Aubrey. Would you like me to show you your room, now?"

"Yes, -hic- yes please, Monsieur."

There was a small pattering of steps as the two stood to leave, when Aubrey cried, "But wait, Monsieur! Tomorrow, tomorrow I will 'ave to attend ze lessons! With ze other students!"

"Yes, you will have to attend the Wammy House lessons. Both regular and musical. Depending on which course is decided for you, your classmates may vary from ages five to our oldest residents, eighteen. You may decide whether or not to go to the lessons starting tomorrow, or from next week, but in the end you will still have to attend the lessons. Or else there is no reason for you to be here."

"But… But I am blind!" Aubrey said this particularly loud, and Mello thought that she had attempted to project her voice into the studio that he was hiding in. Mello blinked owlishly for the third time of the evening. Was she purposely telling him her secret, why she wore the blindfold? Because she was blind? But _why_? Why in the world was she _helping _him, telling him her secrets?

"That won't be a problem, Miss Aubrey," Watari said. "The other students are very nice and won't do anything inconsiderate or harmful. You'll be perfectly fine. I shall assign you an escort that will lead you from class to class until you feel comfortable maneuvering around Wammy's by yourself."

"But…"

There was a short pause.

"Okay… I guess I will 'ave to take your word for eet, Monsieur Wahtairee."

"Thank you. Now off to bed."

The door to the music room gently slid shut, while Mello sat on his haunches, dazed and pondering.

_Why?_

But then it hit him. Of course. She had answered his questions, done everything he'd asked of her, which meant she didn't owe him anything. And then she'd done him a favor, a huge favor by not revealing his whereabouts to Watari when she could have in a second. Which meant that Mello was now in her debt. In a new girl's debt.

Mello sighed wearily. He should have known that the girl would have something hidden up her sleeve. Now she could ask for anything she wanted; in Wammy's House, if you got another person out of trouble, it was practically like saving the person's life. Roger really knew how to deal out punishments, and everybody hated sitting in his office for hours on end, listening to him blab. _Damn_.

Might as well go back to sleep then, Mello thought darkly. And what a great mystery this turned out to be. Even a night full of no sleep was better than being indebted to someone Mello didn't know…

But when Mello finally got settled in his comfortable bed, and was on his way to La- La Land again for the third time, the grandfather clock chimed twice, indicating two o' clock. Mello snatched his pillow from under his head, stuffed his face into the soft downiness, and let loose streams of swear words that would have put any sailor to shame.

* * *

Hey there. Uh, yeah. I really shouldn't be starting another fan fiction. But I can't help it, you know? Ideas swirl in my brain, and they eat my thinking cells until I kick the ideas out via writing. As much as I love dumb stuff, I don't want to become a dumb thing. I like my average-ness, thank you very much.

Andddddd… That's it.

Sending vodka and sunflowers,

Amy

P.S. Does anyone know how much pages this is in Microsoft word? The first chapter? If anyone reviews for this, take a guess at how much, and in the next chapter I'll tell you guys. You'll be surprised… And no cheating! No copying and pasting into a Word Doc! I'm quite proud at how long it is~


	2. Feelings and Friends and The Fates

**Feelings and Friends and The Fates**

Matt shifted under his bed covers so that his back would face the morning light that was filtering through his thin curtains at five o' clock in the morning. He'd pulled another all-nighter playing his video games, and he was rather proud of himself for completing three rather hard core games in a total of only seven hours. Placing the Play Station Portable on his bedside table and removing his goggles, Matt curled up into the fetal position and tried to sleep.

A few seconds afterwards, his door slammed open and a certain angry blonde came stomping in. Perfect timing, Matt thought. Just as I was about to catch a few Z's…

"Matt!" Oh dear. Mello sounded angry, and a Mello that can be awake enough in the morning to be angry was not good news. This type of alarming behavior, Matt had noticed, meant that Mello had either went to look for chocolate and couldn't find any, spent the entire night up eating chocolate and ran out, or spent the entire night awake doing practically nothing and was therefore no longer Normal Mello, but Insomniac Mello. Either one of those options could have happened, Matt mused, or Near had beaten Mello again at something. Matt was willing to bet that the reason Mello was mad today was because he had stayed up all-night again.

"…Yeah?" Matt asked groggily.

"Get your lazy ass up and look at me when I talk to you!"

Matt shook his red hair out of his eyes before reaching over to his bedside table and putting on the goggles he'd just removed moments before. He crossed his legs and fished around in a drawer before drawing out a chocolate bar and handing it to Mello. "Deep breaths Mels. Eat the chocolate."

Matt felt the chocolate being snatched away, and heard the wrapper rustling and tearing. A loud snap sounded as Mello bit off a piece of the chocolate. Matt yawned and stretched. Man, no human being should be up in these ungodly hours… Besides himself, who was a total exception; he played video games up until now! And Mello. Matt supposed he was an exception too. Mello always woke up around five and just couldn't fall asleep again, even though he really wanted to. Mello was like the undead in the mornings: He wanted to sleep, and he felt tired, but he just couldn't drift off into La- La Land, so he just sort of shuffled around like some zombie and came to bother Matt.

Sometimes, Matt wished Mello would go hassle Near in the mornings: When you're a serious gamer that falls asleep at five o' clock A.M. because of your various Final Fantasy games and multiple consoles, you don't really appreciate people who wake you up at five after five. Matt rather thought that nobody could live on five minutes of sleep a day, especially himself, who needs at least twelve hours of the stuff.

A chocolate wrapper was crumpled and thrown into Matt's waste bin. Matt guessed it would be a full three seconds before Mello would explode and start ranting about who-knows-what. One… Two…

Three.

"There'sthisnewgirlandshe'satotalbitcheventhoughshesav edmyasslastnightbecauseIwasg oingtobecaughtoutofbedbecaus eofherandWatariandshewearsso mestupidblindfold'causeshe'sblindandshe'sfrenchjudgingbyhersnottyacc entand-"

Matt kind of tuned out by then. Mello was talking way too fast, and until he calmed down, the only thing Matt could do was sit there and 'listen'. At this talking speed, the only words Matt caught were 'new', 'bitch', 'ass', 'caught', 'Watari', 'blind', 'French' and 'snotty accent'. Matt frowned. He thought accents were cool, especially French and Italian ones. Matt decided that he would have to teach Mello a little something about 'good' and 'snotty' accents.

"-andnowI'minthelittlebitch'sdebt!" Mello panted heavily, looking quite deranged, and allowed his arms to drop to his sides. While he had been ranting, Mello had gotten so passionate about whatever subject he had been ranting about that he'd started waving his arms to and fro and gesturing frantically. Matt had found the whole display rather amusing, but his smile was wiped from his face when he focused on Mello's last words. "Wait, Mello, say that last part again, real slow…"

Matt saw Mello clench his jaw in an effort to make his words comprehensible. "I'm. In. The. Little Bitch's. Debt."

Matt wolf whistled. "Who's Little Bitch?"

Mello glared at his best friend hatefully. "Did you not listen to a _single thing I said just now, Matty_?"

"Come now, Mels, you know I heard _some things_… Like 'bitch' and 'Watari' and… Uh…" Matt's voice trailed off.

Mello shook his blonde head and pulled up Matt's chair before plopping down into it. "Aubrey. New girl. Watari came back last night and brought her. I followed them, talked to her a bit, tackled her, found out she was blind, she kept Watari from finding me, I'm in her debt now, end of story."

Nodding sagely, Matt said, "Great. We really need to work on your womanizing skills. Tackling girls doesn't typically get them to fall for you Mels."

Mello looked like he was about to throw a tantrum and strangle something. Namely, Matt. Matt coughed and changed the subject quickly. He wasn't a fan of being strangled to death. It was the least bad ass way to go. "So now what? What kind of 'debt' are you in?"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Mello muttered, "She saved me from a 'Roger Lecture' and the punishment 'Chocolate Takeaway'. I'm in life debt to her now. She can ask for whatever she wants, and," here, Mello winced, "I'll have to give it to her."

Chuckling, Matt stood up and mussed Mello's hair. He knew that Mello hated that, so before his friend could tear him to itty bitty Matt strips, he said, "Does she know about this whole Wammy House debt thing? 'Cause y'know, not a lot of other places has this kind of system, and if she doesn't, then you're not in any kind of life debt to her unless she finds out."

"But… That's-"

"Cheap, yeah. But do you want to be indebted to a girl who might grow up to try and hunt you down? Tsk, tsk, Mels." Matt wagged a finger patronizingly, before flopping back down into his bed. "Let's see whether or not she's the kind of person who'll try and kill us or backstab us before we enlighten her about the whole debt thing, 'kay? Then, it's a win, win situation."

Matt knew that Mello would ponder this and chew on the suggestion for quite a while, so before his friend could start spurting out 'what ifs' and keep him awake for any longer than need be, Matt turned over on his bed and grumbled, "Now if you'll excuse me, the Almighty Gamer Matt needs his rest too, Mels. You can go back to your own room to sulk and mope. I don't need the depressive atmosphere while I sleep."

* * *

Celeste lay on her new bed nervously. Her sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling while she pondered her thoughts anxiously. Had she gained a new friend last night? Would Mello be nice to her now that she told him why she wore her blindfold and saved him from Wahtairee knowing he was out of bed? He didn't think she was a freak because she was blind, did he? What would the other children think about her? She's never had a friend before, and everybody that she's met in her fifteen years of life has told her that she came off as cold and distant.

All Celeste wanted was a friend, but how was she supposed to change her entire personality so that she'd come off as warm and close instead of cold and distant?

Celeste rather thought that her personality wasn't that bad: She could be funny at times, or sarcastic, but she was almost always nice and polite. She never asked for much. However, Celeste also knew that she tensed up with new people unless she felt that they were… That they were good people. Monsieur Wahtairee felt warm and grandfatherly, but also strict. Celeste thought that he'd be a good judge; she felt that Wahtairee would listen carefully to both the victim and the criminal's stories, and would give verdict fairly and as he saw fit. With Monsieur Wahtairee she'd just been normal Celeste in a new situation. Celeste had felt weak, meek, and scared, and she had shown it, because she thought that Monsieur was trustworthy. With Mello, though, she had felt that he was bitter and rather threatening. And because of how she had felt with him, she had reacted differently than with Monsieur Wahtairee. With Monsieur, Celeste had been open about her emotions; with Mello she'd summoned a towering brick wall and slammed it down between them so that Mello wouldn't see her cowering and could only hear an arctic voice that wouldn't answer his questions.

Celeste really wanted a friend.

In one fluid motion, Celeste whipped the bed sheets off of her pajama clad form and shuffled to her washroom to prepare for the day. Touching her brail clock, Celeste knew that it was only five o' clock in the morning. She hadn't slept a wink since Monsieur Wahtairee had led her to her bedroom and couldn't fall asleep now either, so she figured she might as well get up. Celeste didn't know what she could do once she'd finished freshening herself up and gotten dressed, but preparing herself was something to do, so she did it.

After a shower and the brushing of her teeth, Celeste slumped back down onto her bed, freshened up and dressed.

Now what?

Celeste knew that she couldn't wander around outside in the hallways since she still wasn't familiar with Wammy's and would easily bang into everything in her path and get lost. The only reason she was able to navigate her room so smoothly was because of the landmarks Monsieur Wahtairee had prepared for her before that very night. Her bed, Monsieur had explained, would always be in the very center of the room, so she would only have to walk four paces from either wall of the room to reach it. Her walk-in closet was behind the bed's head board. There was a chest in front of the bed's foot board, and to the bed's left was her in suite washroom. If she walked to the bed's right two paces she would be able to locate a small desk and sitting area in the corner of the room. Monsieur Wahtairee had also been so kind as to include all her favorite books in brail for her in a book shelf beside the desk.

Celeste supposed it wouldn't hurt to read a bit, even though all she could read right now were children's books because of how much her brail sucked.

* * *

Mello paced his room, impatient and aggravated. What Matt had told him made sense; after all, who says that the girl had to know about the whole debt thing anyways? If she didn't know, and kept not knowing, then it would save him a damn bunch of dumb trouble and restless nights.

But not performing the life debt he'd somehow gotten himself into – that would screw up his reputation if anybody in Whammy's found out about this whole mess. Even though the whole debt thing was absolutely the stupidest thing Mello had ever heard of, especially the ridiculous code names for punishment, it was tradition at Whammy's and breaking tradition was like openly announcing to everyone that you thought L was an idiot. It just wasn't done. And if it were, then you would be snubbed by everyone. Mello had seen it happen. Linda had somehow earned a life debt to some evil five year old and wouldn't do the debt the kid wanted her to do – eat a plateful of live worms – so for an entire month nobody besides the teachers and patrons would talk to her. The first few weeks had already been unbearable for the chatterbox Linda, but when her drawing tools started to go missing too, she'd snapped and eaten the plateful of live worms almost willingly.

The strange thing – and Mello was no fan of eating worms – was that Mello really did think that he owed Aubrey something for saving him from Watari. He told himself it was the tiny bit of conscience he had left inside him, saying that Aubrey had done nothing wrong and Mello had openly provoked her, but he wasn't so sure. There was something sad about the girl, as if she had seen horrors no normal person should see. Mello didn't know how he felt that from Aubrey, and, hell, he didn't even know if Aubrey felt it herself. But he _did_ feel it and it made him feel pity.

Which brought him right back to square one.

_What the hell is he going to do with this life debt?!_

* * *

Celeste was absolutely, positively, definitely, without a doubt…

_Bored. Out. Of. Her. Mind._

Her fingers absentmindedly retraced the brail bumps that were supposed to form words. She was reading 'Snow White', but the experience was the exact opposite of enjoyable; it was almost painful. Were those bumps supposed to be an 'I'? Or was it a 'you'? That was 'Snow', right? No, no, it was 'Bashful', Celeste thought…

She slammed the paperback book shut. This wouldn't get her anywhere, and if she was trying to kill boredom, then she might as well try harder.

Standing up from the desk seat, Celeste stumbled over to her bedside table to check the time. Five thirty.

She'd only killed _thirty minutes_. Celeste groaned.

That was it! She couldn't take it anymore! There was still three hours until breakfast, and if she didn't do something that would make time fly she would go _insane_.

When in doubt, Celeste mused while getting off her bed and striding towards her bedroom door, bumping into quite a few stray items on her way there, escape to an instrument.

* * *

"That. Is. _It!_" Mello hissed under his breath. Staying alone in his room with only his thoughts to worry about – he'd even tried _studying_ – was going to drive him completely _insane._ He didn't care if Matt needed his stupid sleep; he could visit La-La Land in class today like he always does, but Mello needed someone to _vent _to or _shout_ to, or _rant _to about what the hell he was going to do _right now_._ Now._

Mello snapped up from his bed, strode over to his bedroom door, replaced the tissue he'd used that night into the door's catch again and headed back downstairs towards the ground floor and his best friend's room for some more raving, whether Matt liked it or not.

* * *

Celeste gently slid the door open, as quiet as she could. When she was out in the hallway, she inched the door back shut, but stiffened when she heard the lock on the door automatically click shut. She jiggled the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Biting her lip, she twisted it again. No luck.

Under her breath, Celeste let loose a torrent of French swear words that would have made any French sailor proud. She quickly ran a hand through her hair. How was she to get back _in _to her room afterwards? And not get _caught_?

Damn it, damn it, damn it. She should have known that the stupid door would lock on her!

Well… Celeste struggled to think on the bright side. At least… She _had_ to go to the music room no matter what now?

Her sliver of rainbow optimism was struck down by a large grisly foot. The foot began to speak, and it weighed down Celeste's heart with each word. _You_ _don't know how to get to the music room, idiot! _

However, her sliver of rainbow optimism revived itself magically, and began to swear at the large grisly foot. It told Celeste to use the button Monsieur Wahtairee had given her yesterday and ask Monsieur to guide her to the room, or just unlock her bedroom door. Celeste let out a soft cheer. She fumbled in her pockets for the button.

After a few moments of frantic searching and coming up with nothing, the large grisly foot spat at the sliver of rainbow optimism, coating it in depressive, disgusting, large grisly foot saliva. The sliver of rainbow optimism shriveled up and died, while the large grisly foot turned its attention back at Celeste. It told her, cackling meanly, _You have to wander the hallways all alone for three hours now!_ before poof-ing into a cloud of large grisly foot-ness.

Celeste groaned.

Now she was not only bored out of her mind, but bored out of her mind without a bed to lie bored out of her mind in. She was even _worse _off than before.

Celeste allowed herself the freedom to swear, mope and sulk slightly louder.

* * *

Mello froze on the second to last step of the stairs. What was that?

Yes, there it was again. That strange, muffled, _groaning _sound. What the hell?

Mello didn't believe in ghosts or the supernatural, but he soundlessly pressed his body against the wall paper of the mansion and edged his way carefully down the steps and to the bottom as cat-quiet as he could. He peeked around the corner, his fringe swinging out to one side and eyed the hallway warily.

Matt's room is at the very end of the corridor, Mello calculated, if I can just sort of snuck pass whatever it is that's making the sound…

And then he caught sight of her. Aubrey. She was slumped against the wall muttering fervently in what seemed to be French and moaning. So _she _was the one making the noises.

That's great and all, Mello thought bitterly, but what in the seven hells is she _doing_? Why's she out of her room? He didn't want to confront the girl yet, especially since he still didn't even know what he was going to do once he did.

Is there a chance that Mello could just walk past her and pretend that he didn't notice her? No, there probably wasn't… And even if he did so, she'd probably stop him or something. Could he pull off not knowing her and being confused? Change his voice and tone just to be safe? Aubrey couldn't possibly recognize him after just one meeting, right?

Mello cursed everything mentally. He decided that a detour to Matt's end of the hallway wouldn't keep him for very long, and was a better choice than confronting Aubrey. He began to start up the stairs, back to the second floor and to the stairwell on the opposite side.

As if the Fate's wanted to spite him, the second his foot stepped on the first step up an eerily long creak sounded.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Damn. Shit. _Mello was paralyzed on the stairs, unsure of what to do. The sniveling that had come from Aubrey had stopped and Mello was positive that she had heard the stairs groan. After a moments' silence, Mello heard the shuffling of fabric and Aubrey's quiet voice ask, "'Ello?""

_Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Shit. __Damn. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fu-_

"Who eez zere?"

Practically hissing to himself, Mello swore over and over again in his head and under his breath now too.

He could hear Aubrey padding towards him now. She was getting closer. Closer, closer, closer.

_Fuck. Damn. Shit. Fucking damned shit. Damn it, damn it, fuck it all, damn it all to fucking Hell-_

When she was just around the corner, Aubrey whispered another soft, "Who eez zere?"

And Mello was off like a bullet. He leaped up the stairs four at a time, as fast as he could. He didn't give a _fucking damned shit_ who heard him. He needed to get _away from this Frenchette_. Even though he was probably exaggerating things way out of proportion, sprinting away and all.

He didn't care.

There, he was at the top now. One sharp turn, down a hall, down another flight of stairs, into Matt's room and he would be safe from any crazy Frenchettes. He was just about to do the sharp turn when Aubrey let out an explosive, "Wait!"

Mello waited, even though every fiber of his being told him to get a move on.

"Please. Please, I need 'elp. Are you… Are you steel zere?"

There. That was his chance. If he crept away now, without a sound, she wouldn't know and he could get to Matt's without running. Easy now. One foot in front of the other. Easy…

The Fates didn't like him. The floor boards creaked even louder than before.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Shit._

"Please," Aubrey murmured. "Can you please help me?"

_No._ That was Mello's instinctive response. No. No way.

But did she have to know it was him that was helping her? And what if this cleared Mello's debt? Aubrey had never mentioned what kind of debt she was going to ask of him since she didn't even _know _about the whole debt thing, so why can't this be the debt? He would be free!

Mello, against his better reasoning skills, walked back down the stairs. With each step, he could see her face relaxing, smoothing out, glad that someone was going to help her with whatever. With each step, Mello tensed up, more and more, the exact opposite. "Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you so much."

When he reached the bottom step, he studied her since he didn't get the chance to the last time he'd seen her. He had been right; she was about his height, and had curly black hair. She was wearing some blue pajamas that looked loose and comfortable. She wasn't wearing her blindfold. He'd seen her green eyes before, and they were still green as ever. They stared right at him, as if she could see him, but if what she said was true, then she really was blind and wouldn't – couldn't – ever see anything again.

Right now, even though the rest of her face was twisted with worry and slight relief, her eyes were dull and emotionless. It made an odd picture.

Mello grabbed her wrist roughly, still against his better reasoning. He tried as hard as he could to mask his voice, and muttered, "C'mon."

"Where are you taking me?" She looked confused.

He couldn't think of a good enough answer, so he just stayed silent and dragged her down the first floor hallway. He didn't have to do the detour to Matt's room, now that he was dragging her along too. _Against his better reasoning._

Boy, Mello shook his head grimly, is Matty going to get a surprise. Waking up to his best friend who has suddenly become mute and a girl in his room…

Speaking of which; why _is _Aubrey in the boy's dormitory wing, anyway?

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" Celeste asked. The person had suddenly grabbed her wrist, muttered 'come on' and was now dragging her back towards her room.

The person didn't answer.

Celeste was puzzled about what she should do. On one hand, this person could guide her. On another, she didn't know anything about said person. The person could be a burglar for all she knew.

She tried to figure out whether she could trust this person or not. The fingers that were gripping her wrist were long and smooth, like a piano player's. They had a pretty tight grip. The voice that had said 'come on' was low and soft. The person was very fast, and very quiet. Had he or she not made the stairs and floor board creak, Celeste would never have known that they were there.

Which, of course, didn't tell her a single important thing about the person at all.

She shook her head, slightly annoyed now. The fingers on her wrist hadn't let go, and were still dragging her down the hall. Celeste would've sworn that they were past her room by now. Where is this person taking her?

"Excuse me. Where are you taking me?" Celeste asked again.

The voice that answered her was brusque and curt. "Gamers'."

Celeste was even more confused. Trying the word out on her tongue, she mimicked the word the person had said as best she could. "Gamiersez?"

"No. Gamers'."

"Gamier-"

"We're here."

Celeste felt the tugging on her arm stop, and heard metal against medal, some fiddling, than finally a click. The soft whisper of wood against carpet met her ears, and then she was being pulled forward again, before being abruptly stopped. Another hand had appeared on her shoulder, and was holding her in place. The brief voice said, "Jump forward."

The feeling of confusion Celeste had felt before was replaced with fear. Jump forward into the unknown? No! What if something bad happens? What if someone _dies_?! What if-

The person seemed to have sensed her reluctance because the hand on her shoulder squeezed her gently. It brought no comfort to Celeste who was starting to hyperventilate. "It's okay. I'll catch you if you fall. You have to jump over this, or else you'll get booby-trapped."

Booby-trapped? Celeste thought that this was a mansion, not an ancient Egyptian tomb. She reached her own hand up and touched the hand on her shoulder, before trailing the hand all the way to the person's elbow, and gripping the joint. Her hand was trembling.

"Must I?" She whispered. Her voice was so weak, so weak with fear.

"Yeah."

Celeste gulped. She thought about all the things that made her happy; the smell of the forest, bakeries, the feel of the piano, music, dance, art…

Calm down… Keep calm.

Stepping back, she sprang.

* * *

Mello was bewildered. Why was this girl so scared about jumping a bit? It wasn't as if they were on the edge of the roof. She was trembling now, and her pale face was even more ashen than normal. Aubrey trailed Mello's hand from her shoulder down to his elbow, before stopping and gripping his limb tightly. Mello winced slightly. Man, she clutched things like a _sloth_…

"Must I?" Aubrey whispered.

After a slight moment, Mello muttered in the same monotone he'd been using before, "Yeah."

She gulped, than stepped back a few. Before Mello could fathom what the hell she was doing, she leaped.

Mello's eyes widened. Aubrey had turned into a blur of blue, black and peach and this blur of a girl was flying right at him. Hastily he stepped to one side and waited for her to soar through the door frame so he could catch her 'round the waist.

That moment never came.

Aubrey's aim was off, and instead of jumping through the doorway like Mello had expected she would, she tripped over the wire Matt had set over the threshold of his room and caused a plateful of pie to soar through the air aimed directly at Aubrey. Luckily for her, she lurched forward and fell face first to the floor and onto Mello's outstretched arm, missing the pie. Mello grunted when he felt a hundred pounds of weight suddenly smash into his arm, and staggered a bit to hold her up.

Mello was just slightly worried. Aubrey was hyperventilating even harder than she had been before, her chest heaving up and down, and Mello didn't know what to do.

Than the Almighty Gamer Matt stumbled onto the scene, a complete mess. One of his hands was fumbling to put on his goggles, and the other was trying to straighten the striped and wrinkled inside out shirt he'd slept in. Matty looked ready to explode, Mello noted, and Mello understood why his best friend was so annoyed. Mello was ready to believe that Matt had pulled another all nighter playing his games and had already been interrupted once by his friend. He probably didn't want to be interrupted again, in his search for sleep. "What do you _want_, busting my traps and charging into my room in the goddamned _morning_?"

The Almighty Gamer Matt took a moment to focus hazily on Mello's blonde hair, black shirt and pants. His irritation eased slightly and he said vaguely, "Oh, hey Mels. Why'd you trip the traps?"

Mello stifled the urge to slap his friend. Aubrey was in Whammy's for a reason, and even if the reason was probably musical she should be smart enough to figure that 'Mels' was a nickname for 'Mello'.

Before Mello had the chance to answer Matt's question, Matt's gaze shifted to Aubrey, taking in her curly dark hair and blue pajamas. He suddenly said, "So have you figured it out yet?"

'It' being Mello's dilemma with the Aubrey Debt. Knowing what Matt meant but not being inclined to answer his question, Mello nudged Aubrey closer into the room. He muttered in the quiet monotone he'd been using with Aubrey, "She's about to faint."

It was true. Her pale skin had turned from ashen to pallid, and her breath was coming quicker and quicker. Not a second after the words had left Mello's mouth, she sucked in another breath and promptly fell unconscious.

Matt shook his head and mussed Mello's hair again, exactly like before. "Mels, I've _told _you, _over and over. _Tackling girls will not make them fall for you!"


End file.
